I don't own Hetalia. . .

"Dude, you're like seriously the coolest friend ever." Alfred F. Jones said jumping up and down, clutching the gift his best friend had just given him. He fixed the wiry glasses that framed his baby blue eyes. In his hands, he was holding the limited edition issue 3 of one of his favorite comic books, "The Hero's Guide" A piece of his golden fringe fell into his face, so he blew it back and continued to jump and laugh.

"Honestly you don't have to be so childish about it!" Grumbled a familiar British accent. He stopped and glanced towards his best friend, who coincidentally had been the one to gift him with the glorious present in his hands, to see a well known scowl. The boy's vivid green eyes stared unamused at his friend, thick eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

"Whot?" Alfred asked doing the best impression of that accent he could manage. "Whatever do you mean by childish? I'm perfectly mature Artie."

"That is NOT how I sound you wanker! Also my name is Arthur!" Was the instantaneous reply. The Briton had turned up the intensity of his scowl, glaring accusingly at Alfred, eyes darkening.

"Hah! It was just a joke! Get that stick outa' your ass and hurry up! You know how my parents get when I'm late for dinner!"

"I do not have a stick up my arse!" Arthur gasped, grabbing his bag and falling in step after the other. Alfred snickered, hearing Arthur grumble under his breath, cursing just about everyone he knew.

Alfred and Arthur were best friends. So much so that you rarely saw one without the other. It wasn't "Is Alfred coming to the party?" or "Is Arthur here?" No, it was "Is Alfred and Arthur coming?" "Did Arthur and Alfred make it?"

This of course was a major setback for the tons of girls who had tried to date Alfred, the most popular guy in school. Because, to be with the star quarterback, you had to, figuratively, be with Arthur. Sure, some tried the friend tactic, trying to have a close friend occupy Arthur while they made a move on Alfred, but it would ultimately fail. No matter who dated Alfred, they were always second to Arthur. Which was something, so far, that no one has been able to deal with.

For the two or three girls who had tried to date Arthur, the student body president, much the same outcome would occur. It frustrated the girls to no end. They couldn't for the life of them, compare to the friendship the boys shared.

Their friendship, was deep. The thing is, Alfred and Arthur "grew up together" per say. Alfred's mom, while still pregnant, vacationed in England, where she met Arthur's mother, who had also been pregnant at the time. They instantly clicked, visiting each other whenever the chances arose, bringing their families along. When Arthur's dad left them, taking his three older brothers, she took Arthur to America to start new lives. They stayed with Alfred and his family for a few months, until his mom was able to get her own house.

They currently rented a small place on the not so great side of town. The women had a sort of, falling out, but the boys remained friends. Two years brings us to current times, in which both boys, at age 16, were better friends than before. Sure they teased each other, and argued like no tomorrow, but none of it seemed to change the fact that they shared a profound bond.

The pair made there way to Alfred's house, where Arthur was eating dinner tonight. He was immensely grateful, for if he had gone home, he would have had to try and scrounge up something from their dwindling food supply, and to be honest, he was a terrible cook. One time, he remembered trying to heat up a can of Spaghetti O's and managing to burn them.

Alfred later told him that it was nearly impossible to do that. Arthur strictly remembers Alfred saying, "You must be something really special!" before he burst into a laughing fit.

"Alfred are you home?" Came a high pitched female voice. His mother walked out of the kitchen, short brown hair held back by a bandanna. "Oh. I see you brought company." She said flatly, he smile faltering.

"Mom, I told you Iggy was coming over!" Alfred threw his hands up. Arthur's eye twitched at the nickname, but he didn't comment.

"I was under the impression that you were informed of my visit." Arthur said glancing at Alfred, and then back to his mother. "My apologies Sally."

"Mrs. Jones." She corrected coldly. Arthur felt the shock that must have spread to his face. He cleared his throat purposefully.

"Right. Uh, my apologies Mrs. Jones." He said, looking to Alfred who's face had started turning slightly red.

"Seriously Mom! You can't even be nice to my friends?" Alfred asked incredulously, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Oh. What's this? Where did Alfred go?" His mom replied sounding shocked. "HONEY! DO YOU SEE ALFRED ANYWHERE?" she called. Alfred's father appeared in a doorway looking around.

"Why no. I don't. All I see is the red monster." The man replied.

"The red monster?" Arthur asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. He looked between the sorrowful looking parents, and a furious looking Alfred.

"Really! I'm not 5 anymore! The red monster isn't shit to me!" Alfred snapped at the older couple.

"Yes my boy." Alfred's dad said, not giving Alfred even a glance. "The red monster." Alfred's mom put her arm around his father's mid-section, nodding.

"He comes out much more often lately. Always yelling and swearing! Ain't that right Frank?" Alfred's dad adjusted his glasses, before patting his wife's head in response.

"Whatever, I'm going." Alfred spat, grabbing on Arthur's arm and pulling him along. He wanted to tell Alfred that his grip was too tight, and that he was hurting his arm, but Arthur thought he better let the other cool down.

"Tell Alfred to be home by 11:00!" Sally called behind them. Frank adding a quieter "Alone."

Arthur let Alfred pull him a few blocks until his forearm's pain was unbearable. He was sure he had a finger like bruise circling his arm. With his free hand, he pulled at Alfred's death grip, dragging the hand down to his own, and sighing as the hold slackened. The now held hands, Alfred still dragging Arthur to where ever their undetermined destination was.

"Hey Arthur?" Alfred said, glancing up at the boy with him. They ended up at an abandoned park close to Arthur's house, both content with just watching the sunset. Arthur was sitting, near the edge of a babbling brook, with forest area surrounding it. The play sets sat a ways behind them, rusting and falling apart from unuse and improper care. Arthur was humming some old nameless nursery rhyme as he carded his hand through Alfred's hair, the other hand behind him as he leaned back. Alfred lie his head on the smaller teens lap, hands folded over his stomach, knees bent upwards.

"Hmm." He replied, momentarily stopping his hand, to show he was paying attention. It was times like this the boys felt like they really were best friends. These simple moments that made up for all of the teasing and fighting. Just sitting in each others presence, happy to be together. They were as close as friends could be, practically brothers.

"Won't your mom be wondering where you are?" He asked innocently. Alfred sighed, reaching up and taking off his glasses which were getting uncomfortable in his current position. He looked up to see Arthur's head bent over him, watching. A halo of glowing light surrounded him, making Arthur's messy blonde hair shine, his eyes standing out against the contrasting red of the sunlight. Alfred couldn't help the slight smile that slipped on his face, almost immediately disappearing to be replaced with a frown at Arthur's answer.

"Maybe." He laughed bitterly, turning his gaze to the little stream again. "If she even remembers me today."

"What?" Alfred asked, scrunching his nose and squinting up at Arthur's face.

"Last week." Arthur started, barely above a whisper. "I came home, a-and she. . . well she thought I was there to steal everything. She kicked me out and locked the doors." Arthur closed his eyes, a little bit of a pained look on his face. Alfred could see him visibly swallow, licking his lips before adding, "I couldn't return for three days. I slept outside, t-that's why I didn't come to school. I didn't have any clothes or my stuff. I didn't eat either. No money for food."

"ARE YOU SERIOUS MAN?" Alfred shot up, pulling the other teen into a tight, bone-crushing hug.

"Alfred, I wouldn't joke about something like this." Arthur replied, as he returned the hug loosely. "Now get off of me you big oaf." He pushed at Alfred's chest and arms futilely.

"Why didn't you tell me! That's so messed up!" Alfred responded, letting go of the squirming English boy.

"Because! It's embarrassing you git!" Arthur's face flushed as emphasis towards his statement. "My mother. . . she drinks and. . .the drugs make it ten time worse! She's always hopped up on LSD or Opium, hallucinations are inevitable."

"Next time that happens you have to tell me." Alfred said seriously, looking at Arthur earnestly. When he didn't receive a reply he took the Brit's face in his hands, squishing his cheeks together, and making his lips pucker into a "fish-face." "I'm really serious bro. You're my best friend. I'd worry so much I'd die or something!"

Arthur rolled his eyes before trying to respond. "Yuu w...nt ...d...eee"

"Wha~" Alfred asked, cocking his head to the side. He scrunched up his nose in confusion. Arthur sighed and pulled at the hands on his face. With a sheepish laugh, Alfred retracted his hands and nodded expectantly.

"I was saying, you wouldn't die." Arthur stated, turning his nose up and crossing his arms.

"Then I'll get really really sick or something!" Alfred yelled in all seriousness, shaking the other teen violently.

"Al. . . fred. . . Jones. . . stoo. . . oop this riiiight. . . now!" Arthur replied, voice wavering from the motion. When Alfred let go, Arthur fell over dramatically, letting out an 'umpf' sound as well as a groan.

"Heh-heh um. . . Artie?" Alfred asked nervously. He bent over the other, to see a calm expression on his face. Then he opened his eyes, and Alfred knew he was in for it. Arthur's eyes looked venomous, his face suddenly seeming not so calm. Its like his eyes could change the entire look on his face.

"You better stop giving me that look." Arthur hissed, still laying back on the grass. Alfred gulped and sat back giving the other some space. After a great amount of mumbling on Arthur's part, half of it being curses, the brit sat up, turned towards his best friend, and promptly smacked him upside the head.

"Owie, Ow! Why d'ya do that!" Alfred whined, rubbing the sore spot. He stuck out his bottom lip in a pout.

"Don't give me any of that! You're like an overgrown child! Honestly I don't know why we're even friends!"

"That's an easy one Iggy!" Alfred perked up immediately, giving Arthur a cheeky smile.

"It's Arthur." The other mumbled. If there was a nickname he absolutely didn't like it was Iggy. Because it was what his mom used to call him back before the drugs and alcohol. The name itself came from Arthur's middle name which was Ignaas.

"Because you love me!" Alfred finished, not even acknowledging Arthur's interruption.

"Oh quit being so full of yourself!" Arthur chuckled, shoving Alfred hard enough to knock him over.

"You didn't deny it!" Alfred sing-songed in response. Arthur sighed and lie down beside the other, close enough for their shoulders to touch.

"I promise." Arthur said, turning his head towards Alfred. "To tell you that is. . ."

"Thanks Art." Alfred replied, turning his head as well. He gave a grateful smile towards the shorter boy. It was a rare moment in which Arthur didn't mind Alfred's nicknames.

"It's nearly 10." Arthur said into the silence, just for the sake of having something to say.

"Yeah." Alfred responded not looking away from the stars. The moon was full tonight, illuminating everything beautifully.

"Shouldn't you head home? Its almost 45 minutes by foot. That's if you don't take into consideration all of your dilly-dallying."

"Ugh!" Alfred whined, covering his eyes with his arm. "I don't wanna go home."

"Well I'd say you can sleep at my house, but I'm not even sure if I can do that." Arthur said. Alfred's face darkened at the implication.

"I'm gonna' walk you home, to make sure we can. If not you'll come to my house. No matter what my parents say I'm not letting you sleep outside and risk you actually being sick. The hero would never do that! Plus it's the last day of school tomorrow!"

"You don't have to do tha-" Arthur started, but was cut off by the taller blonde.

"I want to." It was stated so matter-of-factly, and with such finality that the other didn't fight it.

"Okay." Arthur stood up, dusting off his clothes, before turning towards Alfred. "We better be off."

"Kay." Alfred smiled, standing up and grabbing the other's arm. He pulled the Brit along, knowing by heart the way to the house.

"I wish I didn't have to go home to her." Arthur admitted, pulling his arm so they were holding hands instead of Alfred grabbing his arm. He'd been right though, there was now a very painful bruise.

"Yeah man, my home life sucks balls." Alfred agreed.

"We should just get our own place." The shorter blonde joked, laughing.

"We should! We could run away together!" Alfred said thoughtfully.

"You can't be serious." Arthur said glancing over. "Alfred, I was joking. . . that would never work."

"Would too!" Alfred shot back, looking a little hurt at being told wrong.

"Oh, prey tell." Came the exasperated reply.

"Well. We wouldn't go too far and also we could find one of those motels you can stay in for cheap. Of course this would only be for like the summer. But I have enough money in my personal account! God knows I've been working at Ol' Richie's farm since I was 6! Plus all that money from my cashier job at the gas station! Just have to find a way to cover up our tracks!" The enthusiastic American rambled, thinking as he went on.

"Alfred that sounds like the plot to a cheesy movie." Arthur sighed as the turned onto his street. He could see the dark silhouette of his shabby little house.

"No admit it! This could work!" Alfred continued, visibly excited.

"Alright. Say we find a suitable yet cheap living place and take money from your account for necessities, how do you suppose we escape the police that will surely be looking for us?" Arthur tried, curious to the other's thoughts.

"Okay we'll have 48 hours before a missing persons. They'll think its a kidnapping for sure. . . if my parents have anything to say, which they will. Also there will be no trail. We're taking out the money before so that there isn't a credit card record. They wont no where to look!"

"What about if we make it on the news?" Arthur rounded, trying to find flaws.

"It'll only go national if we're gone for over a year otherwise its local. We'll just go far enough away they won't know!" Alfred replied confidently, shutting up as they got to the front door of Arthur's house. Said teen dropped his best friends hand and cautiously opened his front door.

"Mom?" He called tentatively, body ridged and on edge. Alfred followed alertly, making sure everything was okay. The heavy smell of alcohol and sex hit them like a brick wall. Alfred almost gagged at the intensity of it, Arthur knowing better and holding his breath.

They heard the sound of a light snore, coming from what seemed like the living-room area. Quickly, Arthur dashed inside, Alfred in tow, towards the door at the farthest end of the house. Once in the room Arthur locked it, and jiggled the knob for reassurance, letting his breath go and coughing/gasping to get his breathing regulated.

"I'm sorry about that." Arthur said, ears turning red from embarrassment. Alfred, for obvious reasons, had only been over at Arthur's maybe three times in the year and a half he'd lived there. The other boy shrugged trying to make his face look indifferent.

If it was up to Arthur, both knew he wouldn't be in that living situation. The state of his room proved it. It was immaculately clean, scented candles and other such things dispersed around the small living area, keeping the room smelling faintly of vanilla. A window left cracked to insure the air was never too stuffy. The only furniture consisted of a small day bed/cot in a corner, a simple night table beside it, across the room a desk with a folding chair set up with it, as well as a random bean bag in the closet to be taken out only in use.

"S'no problem." Alfred turned, spreading himself precariously over the day bed. Arthur shook his head, pushing the boy over so he could crawl in between him and the side of the wall. Though it was cramped, they both managed to stay on the bed if they lie on their sides.

"I'd offer you dinner but. . ." Arthur trailed off with a frown.

"Naw' I'm okay. I have my emergency food stash!" Alfred said happily sitting up and reaching into the pocket of his bomber jacket.

"Emergency what?" Arthur asked giving the other a wide-eyed and incredulous look as he pulled a wrapped burger out, as well two small bags of Frito's chips, and two water bottles. He then proceeded to hand Arthur a water and a bag of the chips, while simultaneously unwrapping the hamburger and taking a large bite.

"FOOD STASH!" His response was loud, and distorted by the mouthful of food.

"You. . . Alfred, you're such a git." Arthur said the name flatly, but not in an insulting way. Shaking his head at him, for what seems like the hundredth time today, Arthur opened the chips and ate a few. "I don't suppose you have napkins in that thing; do you?

"Um. . ." Alfred dug around in his pocket and pulled out a couple of crumpled up napkins, some even looked used. Alfred had a pleased look on his face as he continued, "A hero's always prepared!" Arthur, slightly appalled, reached for the least used looking one, and wiped his fingers off.

"Thanks. . . for that." Arthur tried, not entirely happy. But, as the saying goes, beggars can't be choosers. They munched in silence for a little bit before a knock on the door. It startled them both, causing them to fall off of the bed in a tangle of flailing limbs.

"AAARTHUUUURR!" Came a slurred and drunken call from the other side of the door. With wide eyes he looked towards the door, still entangled under Alfred. He held a finger up to his lips to indicate that Alfred was to be quiet. "Arthur! Answer if your mummy's talking!"

Suddenly there was a violent pounding on the door. Arthur flinched, instinctively hiding his face into the other's chest. Alfred, meanwhile sat up off the floor, leaning against the cool wall, and tried to calm down his best friend.

"Arthur Jame Ignaas Kirkland! You answer me right now or so help me I will knock down this door and beat you into next week!"

"S-sorry mum. I was uh, listening to music. . ." Arthur finally spoke, a fearful lilt in his voice.

"That's okay honey!" Was the sickeningly sweet reply. "Can you open the door?" Arthur paled, looking scared and trapped.

"No I r-really can't right now!" Arthur called.

"Why? You hate me don't you!? I know you do! You wish your stupid father had taken you too! Huh? Well fine see if I care! See if I ever get you anything. You better have a job lined up and some hella good friends because I don't want you anymore! Move in with that fucking stupid ass Alfred! You have two days!"

"Listen here! You can insult my style! My face! My intelligence! Whatever the FUCK you want! But you will NEVER insult Alfred again! DO YOU HEAR ME!? HE'S JUST AN INNOCENT VICTIM IN YOUR SCREWED UP LITTLE WORLD! AT LEAST HE LOVES ME LIKE FAMILY SHOULD! DO YOU THINK ITS FUN WHEN YOUR ONLY FAMILY IS A DRUNKEN STRIPPER WITH A DRUG PROBLEM! THINK IT'S FUN WHEN YOU CAN'T EVEN INVITE YOUR ONE FRIEND OVER BECAUSE YOUR NOT EVEN SURE IF YOU'RE ALLOWED IN! THAT YOU LIE EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. IN HOPES THAT YOUR MOM WILL GET BETTER AND CHILD SERVICES WON'T TRY TO TAKE YOU AWAY! ALFRED IS LIKE MY BROTHER AND YOU WILL NOT SPEAK THAT WAY ABOUT HIM!" The boy was fuming, his slender frame literally shaking with rage. He had fisted his hands so tightly that his knuckles were turning white, contrasting from his red face.

"Whatever. You and your little gay fuck-buddy better be happy. I'm officially disowning you. Now you can go fucking skipping with the frickin' unicorns or some shit. Two days kid. Two days." It was cold and venomous, the drunken woman's voice. The boys could practically hear her sneering.

"See how long you last without me you cold-hearted bitch! If I hadn't stolen money for bills and food, we'd long since be gone. Have fun when reality comes knocking on your door and I'm not there to talk us out of it again!" There was no reply, just the sound of retreating footsteps and a glass breaking. Arthur guessed it was the smashing of a beer bottle.

"Art? Are you okay?" Alfred had spoken so softly, he almost sounded like his cousin Matthew or something. Arthur, who until now, hadn't realized the extent of the argument. She always had terrible mood-swings, and verbal abuse wasn't an uncommon thing. Though, he had never insulted her back, and she had never consciously kicked him out. With watering eyes, Arthur turned towards Alfred, whose face was sad and worried, and shook his head no. He drifted over to the bed and sat down, the first tear falling.

Suddenly the flood gates broke, and Arthur was sobbing shamelessly into his felt Alfred's arms around him pulling at his hands, petting his hair, rubbing soothing circles on his back, anything to get the shorter one to stop crying. Eventually the tears relented, and they sat together in silence, Alfred still holding onto Arthur.

"I think we should get some sleep. We can talk in the morning it's already 2:00, so we only have like 4 hours of sleep before we have to get up for school." Alfred suggested, turning the other around to look at him. Arthur's normally captivating green eyes were dull, and sad, tear stains still visible on his cheeks.

"Let's do it."

"What are you talking about!?" Alfred asked. The way Arthur had said the words led Alfred to believe he wasn't talking about sleeping.

"Run away. Tomorrow! We can do it after school. We don't need our bags for anything else! We'll get the money before we go, spend the day there, and then leave. We'll pack our backpacks with clothes, and your sports-bag with other simple necessities." Arthur responded, searching his friends face for agreement, but finding uneasiness.

"I don't know, don'tchya wanna' make up with your mom or something." He questioned.

"Please. Please Alfie. Just. . . for me." Arthur asked, looking tired and rejected. Alfred felt a pang in his chest when Arthur used the nickname. Maybe it was for the best. Obviously Arthur wasn't wanted here, and Alfred couldn't stand his parents. Their home environments were too stressful for them.

"Okay." Alfred said, hugging the other tightly. "I think we need a getaway." After that, the boys settled down into the bed, mumbling goodnights in a sleepy haze. Tomorrow, everything would change.

Hello there my little kittens! This is my new story and I'm super excited to be posting it! If you're reading my other story I'm really sorry I haven't updated! I have serious writer's block on what to even do at the moment. . .

Bear with me the lack of knowledge on missing persons/ general legal things. . . as well as the reality. I doubt two teens would be able to pull this off but for their sake let's just say it's okay. ;)

In case it wasn't clear Arthur and Alfred are really just friends for now. They are super close, and some of there actions may suggest otherwise, but to them it's natural.

Arthur is maybe a little bit "punk", but not quite full on. Though he does listen to punk music. Since he's so poor, he lives with what he has. A lot of his clothes seem "punk-ish" but overall he doesn't try to dress in that way or anything.

'Kay! Until next chapter! :)